


The Unseen Side

by AveryWritesStuff



Category: The Rat Patrol
Genre: Implied Feelings, Rat Patrol - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-09 01:25:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11093988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AveryWritesStuff/pseuds/AveryWritesStuff
Summary: Moffitt lets himself get a little too loose





	The Unseen Side

**Author's Note:**

  * For [All the Rat Patrol fans that are keeping this fandom alive](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=All+the+Rat+Patrol+fans+that+are+keeping+this+fandom+alive).



 Sargent Sam Troy was sitting in his bunk late one evening when he heard muffled laughter drifting in through the tent flaps. A jeep sputtered to life outside and took off. He looked up to see Sargent Jack Moffitt stumble in backward as he waved goodbye to someone outside.

 “Hello, Sam!” Moffitt grinned foolishly as he turned and waved at Troy.

 “Hello, Jack.” Troy said, sitting up. He watched as Moffitt stumbled over to his bunk and threw himself down on it. “Are...are you drunk?” Troy asked bemusedly.

 Earlier in the day Moffitt had accepted an offer for a drink down at the local bar by a group of Brits that were on leave in town. Normally that would entail a couple glasses of Scotch and some light conversation, but things had obviously gotten beyond that. It was rare that Moffitt let himself loose enough to get a little tipsy let alone stumbling drunk like he was now.

 “Not at all, old man.” He shook his head, snorted, and tried in vain to cover a grin. “I, Jack Moffitt, am never drunk!” His speech was slurred. Moffitt snorted again. He struggled to pull his boot from his foot.

 “Uh huh. Sure you're not.” Troy nodded slowly. He rose from his cot and went to Moffitt's side. “Give you a hand there?” He asked, cocking an eyebrow.

 Shaking his head, Moffitt said “I know how to undress.” When he had the laces undone and his foot free, he chucked the boot carelessly onto the floor. “See? No trouble.” His voice had a ring of pride to it.

 Moffitt went to work on his other boot. Instead of undoing the laces he skipped straight to trying to yank the boot from his foot. In the process his elbow jerked back and caught Troy squarely in the ribs. Moffitt stopped, foot still in hand, and howled with laughter as Troy doubled up.

 When he caught his breath, Troy roared, “Moffitt!”

 Moffitt froze, mid-laugh. “I'm sorry, Sam.” Moffitt said gently as he placed his hand on Troy's arm. “Are you okay?”

 “Fine.” He said curtly. “Go to bed.”

 Troy, still rubbing his side, went to the little battery powered lantern that was lighting the tent and clicked it off. He felt his way back to his cot and rolled onto it. He exhaled deeply and closed his eyes.

 After a few minutes, Troy could hear Moffitt fidgeting around. As he moved the cot creaked and it began to rub on Troy's nerves. He did his best to keep his eyes shut and get to sleep. Moffitt's other boot clunked on the floor.

 There was a pause in the noise, but only for a moment, before it resumed. Troy opened his eyes and sat up. He watched Moffitt's silhouette in the dim light. What the hell was he doing now? Troy wondered with growing agitation.

 The struggling form was flailing one arm then the other. A leg kicked up into the air. With a cry of alarm, Moffitt tumbled off the cot and onto the floor. He landed with a thud.

Troy jumped from his cot and turned on the lantern. He glared over at Moffitt who lay in a heap in the middle of the tent, shirt half over his head, laughing.

 “Troy?” His muffled voice called out.

 “What?” He demanded.

 “Would you mind?” Moffitt flapped his arms.

 “Why should I?” Troy cocked his head to one side and folded his arms.

 “Sam, please.” Moffitt's voice had a note of rising panic. He waved his arms and wriggled on the floor, fighting with his shirt. “It's stuck.”

 “It's not stuck.” Troy bent and undid the top buttons of Moffitt's shirt. “Stop moving, will you?” He pushed down on Moffitt's shoulders and held him until he held still.

 With an exasperated sigh Troy pulled down on the shirt. Moffitt's head poked out. His face was flushed and he was grinning. Troy shook his head and sighed again. He finished unbuttoning Moffitt's shirt.

 “Now get the hell into bed.” He extended his hand to Moffitt who took it and began to pull the sergeant to his feet.

 Moffitt's eyes lit up. Troy noticed a second too late the devilish grin that flashed across his face. With a quick tug, Moffitt pulled Troy off balance and sent him tumbling onto the dirt floor.

 Troy leapt on Moffitt, pinning him to the floor. He snarled and breathed heavily. It took all his might not to slug Moffitt and toss him onto his bunk. He hovered above Moffitt and stared angrily at him.

 For a moment Moffitt was terrified. He inhaled sharply and stared, open-mouthed, up at Troy. They locked eyes, neither one blinking. Then Moffitt felt the pressure of the hold Troy had on him. He studied the heaving of his chest. The animal like way his mouth hung partially open and exposed his teeth.

 “Sam...” Moffitt tried to sit up but Troy pushed down harder on his arms and kept him pinned.

 “Are you done?” Troy stared down at the helpless Moffitt. The snarl faded from his lips.

 Moffitt nodded slowly and Troy released his grip and sat back on his haunches. Moffitt did not get up.

 “Well?” Troy asked.

 “Well, what?”

 “Get to bed, Jack.” Troy said wearily. He was shocked when Moffitt shook his head.

 “Uh-uh.”

 “What do you mean 'Uh-uh.'?” Troy could feel his anger rising again. “Jack I am sick of it. I don't care if you're gonna get drunk with your new buddies but dammit I want to sleep. Now move! Before I make you.” He climbed to his feet and turned his back to Moffitt.

 “Make me.” Moffitt blurted out. As soon as the words left his mouth he regretted speaking. He gasped.

 Troy wheeled around. There were a hundred things he wanted to shout at Moffitt, but he was too worked up to put any words together coherently. He stalked forward slowly.

 “Jack.” He warned through gritted teeth.

 “Now, Sam--”

 Moffitt sat up and scurried backward, frightened. He kept moving backward until his back hit the canvas wall of the tent. Now he had nowhere to go but forward. Now it became a game for him.

 He sprang up and rolled to the left past Troy toward the tent flaps. Troy tackled Moffitt's legs and dragged him back. Moffitt flipped over onto his back and kicked out of Troy's grip. Troy grabbed for his legs once again and pulled him back another few feet.

 Troy had excelled in wrestling in high school and his prowess had only improved with the practice combat provided. He quickly flipped Moffitt over onto his stomach. He half-lay on Moffitt's back and pinned his wrists up behind his shoulders. Moffitt grimaced and squirmed but could not break free from the hold.

 “Sam.” Moffitt groaned, nose to the floor. “You can let me up now.” He turned his head as best he could to look up at Troy.

 With a shove into Moffitt's back, Troy stood and walked away. He fell onto his cot and watched Moffitt climb stiffly to his feet. He swayed a little, but caught his balance.

 Still standing in the center of the tent, Moffitt turned his attention back to his shirt. He yanked at the shirt cuffs and freed his arms. The shirt was cast aside.

 Troy found himself staring at Moffitt as he began to unbuckle his web belt. His chest was glistening with sweat from the wrestling match and his breathing was still a little fast. Troy swallowed. He made himself look away.

 “I don't mind you watching. I've undressed in front of enough people.” Moffitt said with a lopsided grin, looking up. He pulled the belt free.

 “I wasn't watching.” Troy growled, his voice breaking slightly. How did he know? He wondered. Quickly he said “I was making sure you weren't going to fall on the floor again.”

 “Oh?” He questioned, unconvinced. Moffitt raised an eyebrow.

 “What?” Troy demanded.

 “Nothing.” Moffitt gave him a knowing smile, shrugged, and sauntered over to his cot.

 Troy hated when Moffitt had that look on his face. He looked too cocky, like he had all the answers in the world. Worst of all, he usually did.

 Moffitt had the uncanny ability to know what someone was thinking or feeling just by a quick glance. With someone, like Troy, he had known and gotten close to it was even easier for him to pick up on the change in emotions. In the field it was a great benefit to know what the next guy was going to do before he did it, but away from combat and in personal matters it became infuriating to have one's mind picked.

 Especially now.

 “It's not nothing, Jack, so you'd better tell me.”

 “I thought you wanted me to go to bed?” Moffitt's eyes glinted.

 “I do.” Troy answered flatly. My bed, he thought wryly.

 Moffitt lay back on his cot and unbuttoned his pants. He arched his back and slid them down from his waist, tugged them from his legs, dropped them on the floor by his shirt. He decided it was too hot and too much work to get into his pajamas so he wore only his boxer shorts as he snuggled up to his pillow.

 He tucked an arm under his head and wriggled around until he was comfortable. He sighed contentedly and shut his eyes. Moffitt's breathing became slow and shallow as he drifted to sleep.

 “Moffitt. The light.” Troy said. When he got no answer, a sneaky grin spread across his face. Quietly, he sat up and pulled the pillow from behind him. He raised it up above his head and took careful aim. “Moffitt.”

 “Wha--?”

 Before he could finish, Troy hurled the pillow across the tent. It smacked Moffitt directly in the face.

 Moffitt yelled and rolled onto the floor again. He peeked up over his cot and grabbed his pillow. Ducking down, he crawled underneath the cot and out the other side. He jumped to his feet, pillow raised. He leaned back, ready to throw it.

 “Jack!” Troy cried, laughing. He raised his arms in front of his face.

 As Moffitt leaned back further to get momentum in his swing, he wobbled and his foot came out from under him. He waved his arms wildly in the air as he fell over backward. He hit the floor hard and lay there.

 “Come on, Jack.” Troy lowered his arms.

 Moffitt did not move.

 “Alright. Very funny.” Troy smirked. “I'm not falling for that again.”

 Still, Moffitt did not get up. Troy got up from his bunk and stood over him. Moffitt's head lolled to one side and he groaned.

 “That hurt.” Moffitt said faintly.

"You're gonna feel that in the morning.” Troy agreed.He helped Moffitt to his feet and guided him back to his cot. Troy gently tossed Moffitt's pillow onto his chest. As soon as he laid his head down, Moffitt closed his eyes and began to snore softly. Troy pulled the blanket up over Moffitt's shoulders.

 Troy stood and watched Moffitt sleep. He was amazed at the difference between the Moffitt he usually saw – composed and conserved – and the one he saw tonight, drunk as a skunk and acting like a child. He shook his head in wonder.

 In a way, Troy hoped to get Moffitt to unwind like this again. He made a mental note to find a bottle of Scotch for him when he got the chance.

He turned out the lantern and went to bed.


End file.
